


Peace, Which Costs Nothing

by JeannetteRankin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1930s, Caretaker Bucky, Gen, Light Angst, MOM FEELINGS, Terminal Illnesses, steve is the saddest panda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3557291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeannetteRankin/pseuds/JeannetteRankin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Steve goes to visit his mother. Bucky's not about to let him make the trip by himself.</p><p>(aka That time I saw a PBS special about the sanatoriums of the early twentieth century and immediately had one million sad head canons about Sarah Rogers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace, Which Costs Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This is hasty and unbeta'd, please forgive any errors.

Steve smoothed down his hair and straightened his collar with jerky motions.

“You missed a spot,” Bucky told him, seeing him anxiously fidget.

“What?”

“The back of your neck, it's all dirty. You can't show up like that.”

He leaned over Bucky to use his reflection in the train window as a mirror and wrenched around to try and see the back of his own neck. “Right there,” Bucky said helpfully.

“You mook! There's nothing there.”

Bucky hid his grin by turning back to look out the window, watching the last of the city's suburbs flash by in bits of white and green and pink painted houses. They were headed steadily upstate, and it was kind of nice, seeing the springtime trees swallow up the rich neighborhoods into countryside. It'd been a few years since he'd been out of the city.

“Thanks for coming with me, Bucky,” Steve said out of nowhere a few minutes later.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Who said I'm doin' this for you? I'm gonna meet a pretty young nurse up there.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Poor girls, out in the sticks. They're all so starved for male companionship.”

“Even starving people don't go for dog turds.”

Bucky slugged him in the arm. Steve smirked at him. The train chugged along.

*

Sarah Rogers had always been a healthy, strong woman, used to doing hard tasks and working long hours. Now she was almost as thin as Steve. Her skin was pale and her usually sturdy limbs were stringy. She had the same twinkle in her eyes, though.

“This place is swanky, Mrs. R,” Bucky told her admiringly, looking around the visitor's parlor. “They got you in real first-class accommodations here.”

“It's true. It's worth getting sick just for the chance to stay in this place for a while.” She smiled at Bucky, the exact same smile down the the worried forehead and sad blue eyes that Steve had used when he'd told Bucky that his mom was going away to the sanatorium. It made his chest hurt a little.

“Mom,” Steve said, next to him, shifting his weight. Bucky put a restraining hand on his shoulder to keep him on their bench. Sarah was sitting, wrapped up in blankets, in an easy chair along the opposite wall. They sat, twenty feet away, on a bench that was nailed to the floor. The matron has been stern as the pharaoh when she'd let them in, telling them to stay put and not get any closer.

“I'm fine, Steve, just like I wrote you.” She'd written faithfully every week since she'd gone away. Bucky had seen most of the letters.

“But they moved you back to class A, you said.” She'd written a week ago to say that she'd had a little relapse, but that Steve wasn't to worry and he could still come visit. Bucky suspected they didn't usually let class A patients have visitors, but Sarah was as stubborn as her son, and not above pulling favors as a patient among her fellow nurses.

“Yes, sweetheart, but it's just temporary. Twenty-four hour bed rest again for me until I clear out some of this junk,” she tapped her chest. “It's not so bad, you know. Plenty of time to read. Which reminds me—Lizzie?” she called to one of the attendants who was passing by in the hall. “Would you fetch my book for me? It's under the bed.” The girl bobbed her head and moved off.

Bucky just watched as Steve watched his mother, staring at Sarah as if he could will his energy into her worn-out body, to make her get better by force of will. As soon as Sarah turned back to them, Bucky could see Steve tug the wires of his cheerful mask back in place.

“How's your mother doing, Bucky?” Sarah asked.

“She's doing good. She finally put up that new wallpaper she's been talking about forever.”

“Oh, good. Did she go with the blue flowers?” Ma had bugged Sarah for weeks, going back and forth between different paper samples.

“Nah, finally settled on the gold stripes, even though I told her and told her it would clash.”

Sarah laughed a little, which turned into a cough. Steve sat and looked miserable. “Well,” she said after getting the cough under control. “I can't wait to see it.”

“Oh!” Bucky said, remembering. “She sent some flowers for you. But they, uh, made me leave them back there.” He waved his hand in the direction of the reception room.

Sarah made a face. “Of course they did. They think everything under the sun is a potential lung irritant, I swear.” Steve huffed a little laugh at her tone of derision for the medical expertise of the sanatorium. “Thank you for bringing them, though. And tell your mother thank you for me.”

“I will,” Bucky said.

Just then the girl came back with a book and gave it to Steve with a kind smile. Bucky peered over at it. It was a little cloth-bound volume with _Rights of Man_ stamped on the front in faded gold letters. 

“You finished it?” Steve asked. For a second he looked stricken. “I didn't think to bring you anything else to read.”

Sarah waved that aside. “The woman two beds down said I can borrow something from her anytime.”

“Is that the one who has all the wild west novels?” Steve asked.

“That's the one. It'll be a nice break from all the heavy reading you've been sending me.”

“It's only fair after you made me read the collected works of Shakespeare,” Steve retorted with gentle humor.

Sarah protested. “That was for school!”

“I only had to read _The Tempest_ for school, and you made me read the whole thing.”

Sarah laughed outright again at that, and wiped her eyes a little on her handkerchief. “Ah, it's so good to see you boys.”

“Are you,” Steve began, then hesitated. “Is it lonely here?” he asked in a soft tone.

She looked aside a little for a second, then only shook her head mutely. _Jeeze_ , Bucky thought to himself. She was a worse liar than Steve was. It had to be an inherited condition.

All at once, Steve was up off the bench before Bucky had a chance to stop him. He threw his arms around his mother and hugged her tight with what looked like all the strength in his skinny frame.

Steve murmured something to her that Bucky couldn't hear.

“Young man. Young man! You can't do that,” the matron called out. Steve just clung on.

“I love you, Steven,” Sarah said, clutching him back.

“You'll get better, won't you?” when Bucky heard the question, the broken tone of Steve's voice made his own throat close up.

Sarah opened her eyes and met Bucky's where he was watching over Steve's shoulder. “Of course I will,” she said with conviction. But Bucky's breath caught in his chest as she looked at him. For a moment, he saw it all in her eyes. She'd worked in TB wards for years; she knew the signs of a patient who was going to make it, and one who wasn't. And he saw, he saw right then that she knew which kind she was.

“All right, young man, that's enough,” the matron said, stern-faced. She came over pulled at Steve's arms. She tugged him away from Sarah. Steve relinquished his grip and came back to sit next to Bucky. The matron eyed them suspiciously, as if a dangerous bout of hugging might break out at any moment.

“I'll be home in time for your birthday, I expect,” Sarah told Steve with a watery smile.

“Good,” said Steve, his face red and crumpled. Bucky pretended not to notice the tears in his eyes.

He cleared his throat. “That'll be great, Mrs. R,” he said with forced cheerfulness. “You can take him out to celebrate.”

“Of course I will. Bucky, you'll have to come, too,” Sarah told them, voice firming up again. “We'll watch the fireworks on the beach.”

“Can't wait,” Bucky said, as he slung an arm around Steve's shoulders and squeezed him to his side. “What a time we'll have,” he said, meeting Sarah's eyes again, he tried to let her know everything. He'd take Steve out for his birthday, no matter what. He'd make sure he had a slice of cake and someone to sing 'Happy Birthday' and embarrass him.

While Steve pulled out his own handkerchief and wiped his eyes, Sarah kept her gaze on Bucky. He could have sworn that she gave him a slight nod.

*

Later, on the train ride home, Steve was in better spirits, laughing with Bucky about the dour matron and over the stories Sarah had been telling them about the staff and patients.

Bucky couldn't quite bring himself to join in. His mind kept flitting back to that look Sarah had given him. The thought scraped at him over and over.

“Where's your mind at, Buck?” Steve asked him, noticing his distraction.

“Just thinking about that birthday celebration we're gonna have,” he said, smiling.

Steve ducked his head. “You know my mom always goes overboard.” Steve always hated people making a fuss over him, even his own mother.

“Well, you're not getting out of it this time.” Bucky went on, describing all the things they'd do. The beach, their favorite bakery, the park. He could see it in his mind's eye. He couldn't bear to picture Sarah Rogers' absence, he shied away from even thinking of it. So instead he just focused on the good things. The things he knew for sure. As he saw Steve roll his eyes at him and smile, he told himself it was okay to think about only the good things. At least for a little while.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to talk about all the feelings I have about the relationship of Bucky and Sarah Rogers, you can find me [here on Tumblr](http://jeannetterankin.tumblr.com/).


End file.
